Let Me Free
by Yashamigami
Summary: Uh rating to be safe. Sequel to my other story Masked Forever (this is better written) Anyway...Duo contemplates himself instead of the facade...


Let Me Free

By Yashamigami

Yes I'm back...kinda...since I was bored I decided to write a sequel to my other fanfic Masked Forever. I kinda wanted to rewrite that fic 'cause my writing skills have gotten better...but I'm too lazy to do so! ' DISCLAIMER: ME NO OWN THIS!!!

Why had I run? I don't know. It's been at least a day or two since that little 'mission'. But I suppose that it won't be enough for Une. She had a camera installed in that room. She isn't happy with that result at all. She's setting up another 'mission' for us on Friday. That's two days from now. I contemplate what part of my motto I should use, the run or the hide? It's pointless doing the lie part...I mean I am a lie. Duo Maxwell is nothing more than a name. I told Trowa at the end of the wars, 'It doesn't matter; a name is something some one gives you'. My name doesn't matter, it's not really mine either. I don't have a birth certificate that proves it. Duo comes from Solo, Maxwell comes from the Church. So I don't think it matters anymore.

I looked into the mirror atop my dresser drawer and looked at myself with my hair down. It was a bit wavy from being in the braid for so long. I got up from my window seat and grabbed the brush. I looked closer at my face, not the face of the mask, but mine. These eyes didn't shine, these lips didn't turn up, and this face didn't look young. I looked upon a picture of us all, the girls and everyone. That person that looked like me was more of the good twin. The twin every one loves, that everyone turns to, the one that every trusts; how would they react if they figured out that it was only façade? I lifted the brushed to the top of my head and began to run it through my hair all the way down to the ends. I continued this all around my head. The waves were gone, but that left a waterfall of chestnut to flow over my shoulders and back. It framed my face well, just as Solo said. I brushed back the hair the flowed over my right shoulder to reveal a scar. I remember how I got that.

That night on L2 was cold. I curled up next to Solo for warmth, his chest serving as my pillow. I listened and felt him breathing, his arm was wrapped around my shoulders in a loving fashion. I cherished being with him back then and even more so now. That night Solo and I were alone since he and I led some bullies away from the younger kids in our group. We had gone a bit too far but we'd be able to find them the next day. I heard footsteps and I kept poking Solo so that he'd wake up. I felt his arm pull me closer showing me that he was awake and fully aware. Next thing I knew, Solo and I were rolling away from a dagger from some drunken fool. As fast as he could he got in front of me and got into a defensive stance. I followed suit but I kept my eyes on the dagger. The man lunged at us over and over as we dodged each attack in perfect unison. The drunk did something unexpected; he brought out a gun and shot near my head distracting Solo and the man aimed for my bud's heart. I jumped and his dagger sliced off many layers off skin. The guy tried to get up but finally passed out. I breathe out a sigh of relief and suddenly felt myself being carried. I looked sideways at Solo and he had a semi-worried, semi-straight face. He began to run back to our current home carrying me along with him so he could try to treat my wound.

I shook my head from that memory. I didn't really want to remember Solo, it didn't want to feel these emotions once more; but I did. Sister Helen said that confessing would lift your soul up higher; but how can a soul from hell ascend to heaven? It wouldn't belong. As neither would I among the others. They had good hearts, good souls, and a future to live for. I had nothing; there wasn't anything for me to live for...except...well to build back the things I never had. If I ended my life I would be disobeying Sister Helen, Father Maxwell, Solo and everyone else who suffered from my curse. I disrobed myself and redressed in black pants and a red shirt. Black and red, I always put those two together. Black for death, red for blood; to me it only seemed right.

The others were laughing in the kitchen drinking tea, coffee, or hot chocolate. That's what they've been doing often since the 'bonding mission'. I walked slowly into the kitchen and looked at them with sullen eyes. I grabbed my own black mug and poured some coffee into it taking a slow sip before setting it upon the counter as I studied the backyard through the kitchen window. I leaned back onto the counted resting my weight onto my shoulders and I looked at them. The others were still and so was I; the world seemed frozen. Scanning their faces I sight audibly and looked up at them with an uncompleted mask. "So, this is my confession."

Love it? Hate it? I don't really care. Just read and review. I don't know about a sequel...but yea...


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